Where the mouth of the cavern should have been was a drift ten feet deep.

Cold and hungry, thinned by his days and nights of fasting, and with his last hope of comradeship shattered by the pitiless mountains of snow, Miki turned back over his trail.

There was nothing left for him now but the old windfall, and his heart was no longer the heart of the joyous comrade and brother of Neewa, the bear.
His feet were sore and bleeding, but still he went on.

The stars came out; the night was ghostly white in their pale fire; and it was cold--terribly cold.

The trees began to snap.